In The Violet Plains
by SirenxHavok
Summary: She resented Odin for her exile out from Asgard. She resented her father for abandoning her in the bowels of the nine realms and so when she ate the fruit of the all-knowing tree, Hela unleashes hell upon the worlds when she plots a chess like plan to overthrow the all father and with the help of unexpected player. Thorki, Pepperoni, Clintasha etc. R/R (Write all the pairings!)
1. Prologue

A/N: Disclaimer, I do not own Marvel or Thor, this is purely fan fiction and I do not own AFI's Spoken world. Also for you myth critics, this is going to draw out some of the myths and some of the comics, also some of my own ideas, so please, read and review.

A/N: A big thank you to TheTricksterAndTheOptimist for being my editor and putting up with my sucky grammar. :3 Love you darling. 3

* * *

_We held hands on the last night on earth, our mouths filled with dust. We kissed in the fields and under tree, screaming like dogs, bleeding dark into leaves. It was empty on the edge of town but we knew everyone floated along the bottom of the river. So we walked through the waste where the road curved into the sea and the shattered seasons lay, and the bitter smell of burning was on you like a disease. In our cancer of passion you said, "Death is a midnight runner." -AFI Spoken Word_

* * *

Asgard; the haven of the gods; a city made of concrete and gold. The city of envy by all other beings in the nine realms and to rule them all, Odin sat upon his throne to protect Asgard and bring everlasting peace. Like every city, there were markets and shops. There was the financial district and banking and the courts. Asgard was the prime example of what a metropolis should be. In the middle of this grand city was the white world tree; Yggdrasil.

Yggdrasil stood taller than any construct in Asgard and shone white; up from the elegant branches, an ever growing shield to protect Asgard from any kind of attack. The white branches of this tree of life bore the white fruit of all knowing. By Odin's law, it was forbidden to eat the fruit from the white tree.

Over the ages, the eternal gods had faced war, time and time again. Odin would be victorious each cycle, every battle, every spat. However, the Odin sleep claimed his body in a comatose state, to regain his power and energy. This was a dangerous time for Asgard, for the jealous realms very well would make an act of war. However, not is all lost. Thor, the sworn prince of Asgard and Odinson wields the powers of the sky. Thunder and lightning, and with his hammer Mjolnir, he struck down every foe that threaten the marvelous city.

But not all are envious of the city of gold. There are some who are ignorant to its existence, those of Midgard; too preoccupied with their technology to believe in the realm of gods. The realm of man has long forgotten the dependency of the gods. There are some that dream of living in the haven of Asgard, others resent it.

In the deep depths of Nifliehiem and Hel lived the goddess of the dead and the queen of Nifliehiem; Hela. The half frost giant, half Asgardian woman wasn't always the Queen of the Hell realms; she once lived in paradise along with her family. However, she was less to be desired in the perfect realm. Half her face bear the beauty of the Asgard race, however the other half bear the ridged features and flesh of a frost giant and many found her to be a curse.

Hela was like most children, she wanted to play and to learn but, most of all, she wanted friends, but not all of Asgard can comprehend the wishes of a lonely little girl. As Hela grew, so did the darkness within her and her loneliness; the only company was that of the wandering souls of the dead.

Over time, and bonding with the souls of the dead, Hela grew to accept her shunned life in Asgard; but most rejected her existence. Odin finally gave into the demands of his people and casted out the girl. She found herself in Nifliehiem and Hel, and once again there was no conflict in Asgard. Odin had once again brought peace to the golden city; however, this story is not about Odin and his righteousness, no. This story begins with death.


	2. Chapter I: Death Is A Midnight Runner

Chapter I: It Begins With Death

* * *

A/N: Disclaimer, I do not own Marvel or Thor, this is purely fan fiction and I do not own AFI's Spoken world. Also, for you myth critics, this is going to draw out some of the myths, some of the comics, and some of my own ideas. So please, read and review.

A/N: A big thank you to Mercury Seas and TheTricksterAndTheOptimist for being my editor and putting up with my sucky grammar. :3 Love you darling. 3

* * *

_We held hands on the last night on earth, our mouths filled with dust. We kissed in the fields and under tree, screaming like dogs, bleeding dark into leaves._ _It was empty on the edge of town but we knew everyone floated along the bottom of the river. So we walked through the waste where the road curved into the sea and the shattered seasons lay, and the bitter smell of burning was on you like a disease. In our cancer of passion you said, "Death is a midnight runner."_ -AFI Spoken Word

* * *

The crimson dripped through the celestial branches of Yggdrasil, staining the whiteness with blood. The fruit of all-knowing dulled and turned into a deep, ruby color, and no one would have ever seen such an astonishingly tragic sight. The warriors three and Baldur the beautiful stood around the grimly scene. No one spoke for several moments, the body among the branches twisted and mangled, the fresh blood splatter indicating the death wasn't an easy one, but who would ever expect the death of The Goddess of the Dead?

A shaken breath of anxiety left the pale lips of Baldur, leader of the investigational district. He had never seen such a gruesome death and in the tree of Yggdrasil. In his mind, he deduced several different theories of how she could have come to this fate, but all fell short in his mind.

"What shall we do now, sir," a lower ranking officer asked.

Baldur drew his attention to the man and stared at him. "Inform Odin. Bring him here right away." Baldur strolled cautiously to examine the body more closely. There were puncture wounds on her neck, torso, legs, arms, as if a venomous worm had constricted around her frame and devoured parts of her flesh. The god of beauty backed away and turned to think.

"Baldur," Odin spoke and interrupted the god's thoughts. The all father glanced at the horrid scene and back to Baldur. "How long ago was she found," he asked.

"About twenty minutes ago," The beauty god replied with mild cautiousness. The all father remained silent and examined the body with his own silent deductions and looked to him.

"Bring her body to the healing room and we will have our doctors examine her body," The all father ordered.

"Very well," Baldur said and nodded to two of his men to collect the body and cover it with a plain sheet. Baldur escorted Odin back to the palace and one thing plagued his mind.

"Something is bothering you Baldur," Odin spoke suddenly and turned to face him.

"Well, sir…"

"Come out and ask me what you need to," The all father said, matter of fact.

Baldur exhaled another anxious breath and nodded. "Very well, all father," Baldur began and paused for a moment, as if to find the right words to express his concern. He shifted in his boots nervously, always knowing his compassion would be a hindrance to his rank, but nonetheless the god finally came out with it.

"All father, are we going to inform your sons?" Baldur could see the change in the all father, the diminished look his eye and he could tell he had broken some sort of secret taboo. The all father was silent for a long time, as if to pick the words he wished to express. Finally, Odin opened his mouth to speak.

"What would you do, Baldur, if they were your sons?" The question seemed to roll off his tongue with faint distaste. The beauty god was taken aback by such a question, never expecting to share an opinion with the all father. Baldur thought carefully. The sons of Odin were banished to Midgard. A knot formed in his throat, but he swallowed it and remained silent.

"Well? What would you do in such a situation," Odin asked again and Baldur knew he had to answer.

Baldur sucked in another breath of air and released it. "Despite the reasons why my sons are banished, I would still inform them if one of their children had been killed," he said slowly and as stoic as he could, but he knew there was compassion in his voice, something he could never get rid of.

"Would you," Odin asked, with a hint of distaste in his voice. "Even with the circumstances of their banishment, would you ever be so compassionate to the sons who decide to bed each other and nod their respected betrothed," the god of gods nearly sneered.

Baldur could feel a knot forming in the pit of his stomach and slowly nodded. "Despite the reason of the banishment, I would," the blonde god repeated with as much resolve he could muster, even though the sons of Odin were gone and living in Midgard, he still respected them as princes.

"Very well, Baldur," Odin spoke calmly and placed a hand on the god's armored shoulder. "If you desperately believe in such honor, you will be the one to deliver the news to the ex-sons of Odin." Baldur watched the Sire of Asgard walk away back into the palace and another nervous breath escaped his lips. He would travel to Midgard through the Bifrost. That was the easy task; the hardest was to come, telling Odin's sons that one of their children had been murdered.

"I shall go right away," he whispered under his breath to no one in particular. Another thought came to him. What of Hel and Niflihiem? What of the souls of the dead? Are they to wander the nine realms now that their beloved queen was no more?

* * *

In the bustling city of New York stood the Avengers tower, triumphant and standing for the struggle the city had gone through during the times of conflict. Even though it had been four years since Loki had staged an attack on the world, the damage was still evident throughout the streets and buildings, but there was peace.

Busy in the Avengers tower, Tony Stark was preparing for a new expo on his upgraded Iron Man suit. He went over the stage with Pepper Potts and any little details that they might have missed. Unexpectedly, life seemed to return to normal for the most part. Stark was thankful for that, despite the new living guests in his tower, the other Avengers.

Everyone seemed to get along well enough with each other, other than the sibling bickering of the Odinsons. Bruce, though, always seemed to diffuse the fighting with a hint of the other guy making an appearance.

Bruce was enjoying his life with Tony and the other avengers; to him, it was strange to have friends, but he wouldn't want it any other way. At the moment, Bruce was giving yearly physicals to all the staff, which included the Avengers.

"How are you feeling today, Miss Romanov?" he asked politely as the red haired Russian sat in his office.

"Natasha is fine, Bruce, and I feel all right I suppose, just incredibly fatigued for some reason," she answered truthfully and ran a hand through her long curly hair. Bruce nodded and looked over her file and stared at her.

"Have you been getting enough sleep?"

"As much as anyone else, since the Avengers formed, there hasn't been any major emergencies, so I've been doing grunt work, getting a lot of sleep, but still I feel tired and heavy every day."

Bruce pondered for a moment. All her tests came back all right, there was nothing physically wrong with her, but exhaustion was all over her face.

"All right, Natasha," Bruce said as sternly as he could to the Russian assassin. "I am putting my foot down so to speak. You need a vacation," He stated, feigning his boldness. The truth was, he was a bit afraid of the woman, but he wasn't the only one.

"Yeah, like I have time to go on a vacation," She grumbled and got up.

"It would do you some good," Bruce spoke kindly, nodded and continued. "I will send Nick Fury an email telling him it's doctor's orders." Natasha cracked a rare smile and nodded.

"Well how can I disobey if it is doctor's orders," she teased and left, meeting Clint in the hallway. He was leaning up against the wall, his muscular arms crossed in his usual fashion.

"Hey, Barton," Natasha greeted and slipped her hands into the warm pockets of her hoodie pocket. Clint opened one eye and smiled boyishly at the woman.

"How did it go," the archer asked. "Did he figure out why you are tired all the time?"

Natasha shook her head and shrugged. "Nothing physically wrong, but he thinks it could be some sort of stress and ordered me to go on vacation."

The boyish grin returned on the man's face and he walked with her down the hallway. "Wow, Natasha Romanov on a vacation? That would be a S.H.I.E.L.D. first." The agent teased and hooked a strong arm around her middle. "What do you think, Romanov? Should we return to Budapest," he asked.

Natasha chuckled and slowly removed his arm from her and crossed her arms. "Hmm, I am not sure, Barton. Are you going to remember what actually happened in Budapest this time, instead of being distracted by a book fountain," she retorted and smirked at her partner.

"Oh, it happens one time and it sticks with you forever!" Barton sighed dramatically and laughed as he ran a hand through his short brunette hair, his eyes locking on hers. Natasha Romanov was his partner, even now.

"All right, smart-ass, let's go talk with Fury about this vacation," He said and escorted her to his office.

* * *

"What exactly is it?" Loki Laufeyson asked as he prodded the strange substance on his plate with his fork. Thor frowned and stared at his brother and attempted to be patient, but he knew his brother's pallet was spoiled to the delicacies of Asgard.

"Midgardians call it pizza," Thor informed him as his picked up his own pepperoni pizza slice and took a large bite out of it. Loki watched Thor eat with his hands, and his stomach turned.

"What?" Thor asked with his mouth full. "You're supposed to eat it with your hands," he exclaimed in defense at Loki's judgmental stares.

"Are you serious, Thor? This is so demeaning." The dark-haired god grumbled and took a small bite out of his slice and paused, it was actually very good and he continued to eat. After finishing his bite, Loki looked to Thor.

"This is acceptable."

"Good." Thor chuckled. His new life with Loki seemed quiet and peaceful, even though his brother liked to cause mischief around the tower, the majority was harmless. Thor always seemed to be covering for his brother's tricks and pranks.

"Thor?" Loki asked suddenly after eating his lunch.

Thor looked to his brother and nodded. "Yes Loki?"

Loki looked up with the same expression he always gave Thor, a scowl. He hated asking his brother for favors, but he had wanted this for a long time.

"Do you think…we could…" Loki paused and looked down.

Thor stared at him and wrinkled his nose for a moment. "What is it?"

"I wanted to know if we could take another trip to the library. I would like to get more books," he asked him in a hushed tone, as if he would be laughed at for such a request. Thor just smiled and gave a simple nod.

"Certainly, brother," the Thunderer replied and stood and stretched his long arms. Loki gave a soft smile and stood as well, ruffling out the wrinkles of his new plain, emerald shirt and denim trousers.

"Why must Midgardians dress so simply, brother? What if they get attacked?" Loki asked.

"Well, they have weapons, I suppose. Anyway, shall we go?" Thor reached for the door and was about to exit when he stared at the form of Baldur, standing before his door. Surprised and caught off guard, Thor stumbled back and gasped.

"Fair Baldur," Thor exclaimed and Loki quickly walked over and stared at the God of Beauty. Baldur nodded quietly, mentally preparing what he was going to say. Anxiety bubbled up in his stomach, but he willed himself on and stepped into the apartment.

"Baldur, what a surprise," Loki commented, less than amused that his trip to the library was interrupted. Baldur was still quiet and moved to the counter and turned, placing a pale hand upon the cold surface.

"Thor and Loki, you both are looking well," Baldur spoke gently and looked to them with dejection evident in his eyes, and Thor knew something was wrong. The Thunder God strolled over to the fair god and stared.

"Baldur, you look burdened. Why have you come here? It's not just for a friendly visit, is it?" Thor asked him and looked to Loki, who had stepped up beside him and nodded, staring sternly at Baldur.

"Yes, Baldur, why are you here?" Loki asked, less patient than his brother.

"Very well, Odinsons," Baldur spoke directly and stared at them both. "I have been burdened with tragic news." He stopped for a moment and shifted once again in his boots.

"What tragic news could you have that would have to do with us," Loki snapped and crossed his arms. He was becoming irritated and resentful.

"What? The all father stubbed his big toe and is now in the Odin sleep? Why would we care? He banished us," Loki continued on, becoming more aggravated.

"Loki," Thor said through gritted teeth and stared at Baldur.

"Continue," Thor said and gave Baldur a gentle nod and looked to Loki as if his stare would force him to hold his tongue.

"I have been given the task to deliver tragic news," Baldur repeated and exhaled a low breath as he gathered up all the courage he had. "Hela is dead."


	3. Chapter II: Genesis

Chapter II

A/N: Disclaimer, I do not own Marvel or Thor, this is purely fan fiction and I do not own AFI's Spoken world. Also for you myth critics, this is going to draw out some of the myths and some of the comics, also some of my own ideas, so please, read and review.

A/N: A big thank you to Mercury Seas and TheTricksterAndTheOptimist for being my editors and putting up with my sucky grammar. :3 Love you darling. 3

* * *

_We held hands on the last night on earth, our mouths filled with dust. We kissed in the fields and under tree, screaming like dogs, bleeding dark into leaves._ _It was empty on the edge of town but we knew everyone floated along the bottom of the river. So we walked through the waste where the road curved into the sea and the shattered seasons lay, and the bitter smell of burning was on you like a disease. In our cancer of passion you said, "Death is a midnight runner."_ -AFI Spoken Word

* * *

"This is your new home, child. Odin couldn't deal with you nearly bringing on the next Ragnarok." The old crone spoke in her raspy and sickly voice, coughing up a dark substance. Young Hela wrinkled her nose in disgust; this dreary kingdom would be her new home.

"I nearly bring Ragnarok, just because the Aesirs are too stupid to see that I am not an evil person." The dark haired child grumbled in utter resentment towards her out casters. The old crone stared at the child.

"You are a young goddess; you have much to learn and there is little time to teach you all the ways to Sheppard the dead, but this you must." The crone continued and took her through the many chambers of Hel.

"Hel is just a new beginning for the souls, a new life without a solid form." Hela looked up. "I thought the gods are eternal." Hela asked and looked up with her innocent emerald eyes. The crone stared at her. "Ah, I see your father hasn't taught you a thing." The crone ran an elderly hand through the child's hair. "Probably too disgusted by your appearance to properly educate you." The old woman spat and continued down the long dreary corridor of the palace.

"My father is a fool and no different from the Aesirs. He is just as shunned by them as I am and he still acts so proud, he didn't even cry when mama passed away." The small two toned girl grumbled and locked her fingers in a fist position until her knuckles turned white. The crone stared at the angry child, shaking her head. Children were so vibrant and full of raw emotion. The crone faintly began to remember shards of her youth and let out a hoarse chuckle.

"Ah what is it to be young." She grumbled and took the child's hand. "Do not weep for your mother, little dove. Your mother is no longer in pain and no longer bears the burden of being your father's wife." Hela blinked away her tiny tears and closed her small hand around the wrinkled and calloused hand of the crone.

"Now your mother is in her own Valhalla here, she was not evil and was gentle as most women are. Her soul is out in the fair planes of Niflehiem. You do see the souls don't you?"

Hela looked into the violet fields and seen the black wild flowers grow, the navy skies of the world going on infinitely. Among the variety of dark flowers were spheres that were made of up of several different colors. Red to blue that fades into lavender and green. Millions of soul spheres leisurely floated in the fields, each a different soul of the nine realms. Hela's eyes widen in complete awe. She had seen the souls lingering in the palace, mostly those who lost their lives in battle and sickness, but they weren't this beautiful.

"I do! I see them everywhere!" she exclaimed with such vigor. "It's simply amazing, isn't it?" The old crone asked and let go of her hand. "Listen well, little dove. It is a rare gift to see the souls of the departed. It's another to bring them to Hel." Hela looked up with an inquisitive expression. "But how do you bring them to Hel?" Hela was curious to know and wandered into the main parlor to sit with the elderly woman. "Come here child and help me sit down and I will explain to you how to Sheppard the souls of the dead."

Hela made her way to the old crone and supported her frail frame as she sat in a velvet cushioned chair. "There we are, thank you girl." Hela nodded in her direction and left the room for a brief moment and returned with a small footstool. The crone arched a thin brow and watched as the little one sat upon it, ready to hear what she had to say.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes." Hela settled in and placed her tiny hands in her lap. The crone leaned back and nodded. "Alright, as you know, Odin had sent you here to take over my position as Goddess of the Dead." Hela was silent for a moment before giving a slow nod of comprehension. The initial thought of the goddess of the dead dying made a sharp knot in her stomach.

"How can the Goddess of The Dead in fact be dying?" The crone lifted a wrinkled hand to stay a loose strand of grey hair. "Because child, I am older than any other in the nine realms and my time is coming to an end." The young girl's fingers fidgeted eagerly in her lap and she looked up with a frown.

"Do you not eat Idunn's apples?" Laughter escaped the crone's lips and she held an amused smile. "Little dove, I do not need to eat those apples, I have lived long enough and I am ready to retire to Valhalla once you are coroneted to the throne."

"Coroneted?" Hela asked in a hush tone and stood from her stool. The crone cleared her raspy throat and gave another nod. "Yes, despite what most people think, this is a kingdom and since I never had any children, you will be the new goddess of death."

"But what if I don't want to be the goddess of death?" Hela frowned and stared at her with intense eyes. The crone just placed a hand on the tiny goddess' head. "You do not have a choice; this was the terms of the agreement between Odin and me." She paused. "Now, let us get back to the previous topic."

Hela sat back down on her stool and placed her hands back in her lap, ready to listen to what the old crone had to say. "The souls of the dead need guidance, so when gathering the souls of the nine realms, you light a very special light that guides them to Hel." She paused to see if Hela understood what she was saying. "What kind of light?" The little goddess wondered aloud and the old crone nodded. "I was getting to that. It is a large and long light that reaches the World tree." Hela's eyebrows furrowed in thought. "Yggdrasil." The crone smiled. "Yes, you see the souls travel through the roots of the world tree to come to Hel and the roots become the roadways to the palace here. Each soul must be judged accordingly. The good souls that have shown courage in their lives or died in battle go to Valhalla which is a realm above Asgard." The crone paused and licked her cracked lips. "The passages to Valhalla are in the highest branches of Yggdrasil."

"And what happens to the other souls, Crone?" Hela asked while fiddling with the hem of her dark green dress, it was her favorite in the whole wardrobe in the palace. It was plain and simple but her earliest memories of her mother were of her wearing something quite similar to the dress she wore.

"The neutral souls remain in Hel, those who were good but not good enough to enter Valhalla and they stay among the plains of Hel. They relive their lives to their wishes and their rules, each haven are different from another." Hela glanced out the window and stared at the soul spheres that lingered in the air around the violet plains.

"Then you have the evil souls." The crone crossed the room and stared towards the smoldering blackness in the far off distance, smoke and smudge dispersing in the air. Hela turned and met the old crone's gaze. "What happens to the evil souls?" The crone made her way back to her seat. "They are tortured for their devious acts while alive. Murders, rapists, terrorists, they are judged and then tortured in their own oblivion."

The young goddess listened silently, how could she bring herself to do such a large and daunting task? The crone sensed her inner doubt and extended her slender wrinkled hand, motioning her index finger to the girl to come. "Do not be troubled by your new role. It will soon come naturally to you." The crone paused. "Now, let me show you to your room." She reached for her cane and stood, wandering slowly out of the parlor with the child following close behind.

The hallways were decorated in a dark violet wallpaper and ebony trim and portraits of fallen gods and goddesses littered the walls as if to keep count on how many fallen Aesirs that the realm had claimed. Hela stared at several different portraits and had an eerie feeling that their glances were following them. The young one grasped the back fabric of the crone's dress. The duo made their way down the dim lit hallway and came to the large oak door with patterns depicting Ragnarok.

"This is it." The old crone spoke and the doors opened automatically, as if the presences had triggered the spell. Hela waddled in nervously and fidgeted with the hem of her dress. The bed was large, much too large for a girl of her size but nonetheless, the tiny goddess climbed up and sat on the soft feather filled mattress. The covers were a dark navy blue with violet patterns and lace see through sheets decorated the canopy.

"Do you like your room, little dove?" The old crone asked while stroking the tassels of the canopy. Hela smiled gently and nodded. "Yes, very much, thank you." The elderly woman chuckled and sat down beside the bed in a nice cushioned chair. "Just because we live in the bowels of the realm, doesn't mean we shouldn't be fashionable." A small chuckle left the child's lips and she nodded. "I agree, though I prefer the color green." The crone laughed along with the child. "Well then, when you are queen of these realms, you can change the colors." The crone began to cough gently and pounded her fist softly against her chest. "And now darling, it is far too late for an old hag like me to be awake. The kitchens are downstairs and help yourself; the chefs will cook anything for you." Hela watched as the crone made her way out of the room and she was left in silence.

At first, Hela didn't really know what to do and so she sat on the bed while examining the room. She expected each cress and nook before venturing out into the hallway. The castle was quiet and the child tip towed down the corridor. It was strange that the palace of the dead seem so vacant of the souls; it made a feign expectation of seeing a ghost; at least that is what came into Hela's mind as she found herself back in the main hall way.

'Where is the kitchen?' the small death goddess thought to herself as she strolled to the left and down the next wing. The candle lit corridor was dim and Hela moved carefully. She noticed a large oak door not too different from the one of her room and a bright light around the edges of it. The dark haired child stood before it and took a moment to stare at the scene depicted on this door, a large serpent that circled around the earth twice; Jörmungandr. He was the eldest of the children of Loki whilst Hela was the youngest. The mere thought of her father flared anger within her but she pushed back the ill feelings and continued into the room.

To her pleasant surprise; the large room was filled with long elegant cabinets and shelves that were filled with books that seem to be endless. Hela figured that had to be thousands of books on the first floor alone. The child goddess moved through the different aisles and began reading the different book titles on the spines. She would enjoy the library the most; she thought and reached up to touch the coarse binding of a particular novel. "The retellings of Odin and his infamous battles." She read aloud and turned the page. Despite her negative feelings towards the all father for forcing her into such a dreary place; she found his stories of his war victories admirable and captivating. She read over the story of Odin's victory over Laufey and his frost giants. To her, Odin seemed to crush anyone who thought differently under his armored boot. This proved the fact that Odin wanted nothing but perfection and the only perfection he all father allowed himself to see, was his precious Aesirs.

The Aesirs were the perfected race of the nine realms and one would never be seen with a blemish. Their radiant pale skin and blonde, dark, or red hair was the only acceptance in the utopia. Hela had felt, even in her earliest childhood that if anyone had an opposite fault from the all father, one would be named traitorous to the people of Asgard and would be cast out.

This was not unlike her predicament. She was cast out at such a young age because she was disliked for her appearance. Hela's eyes locked on the fainted sketch of Odin and she stared at her Adversary. 'Adversary?' Hela began to question her own thinking. If Odin was someone she didn't care for, and certainly didn't think he was fit to rule anything, in that reasoning, would that make him her adversary? Just as quickly as the thought came; Hela came to the conclusion that Odin was in fact her adversary and that she would probably sleep a bit better if he was no longer the all father.

"I suppose nothing would come out of thinking along that line of thought." She muttered and promptly closed the book and placed it back in its spot on the self. The child goddess moved quietly through the other aisles and searched for something more interesting to read, perhaps even take a book to her new bed chambers.

Through the next couple of hours, Hela searched for the right reading material that would interest enough for her to read while lying in bed. "So many books and nothing of interest." She grumbled her complaint and finally went to the third and last floor of the library, she took to the metal spiral stars slowly, one step at a time and, the same process of reading the titles and perhaps flipping through a book or two that seem to stand out in her mind. Finally, in the last row; there was a ratty and torn book. The cover looked like it was slashed open with some sort of dagger and the pages were stained with old mead and food, and crinkled. Hela read the title aloud. "The Great Wall of Asgard." After reading the first paragraph, the child decided that the book would suffice and she made her way back toward the stairs.

Once back in her bed chamber, Hela placed the book upon her neatly made bed and wandered over to the dark colored wooden dresser and slowly slid open the drawer. Within the storage, there was a soft bristled brush which was a cold metal and decorated in gold trim. It reminded her of the luxurious items that many of the noble women would use in their daily lives. Hela wrinkled her nose at the brush but nonetheless, she would use it.

With a bratty sigh, Hela sat upon the violet cushioned stool and brought the brush to the top of her head and with a swift motion, the bristles ran through her long black hair in which she inherited from her father. Once her hair seemed to be in order, Hela wandered to the large and towering wardrobe. She looked up at it for a long while before opening it up. She searched for some sort of sleep ware and found a dark bed robe towards the back of the wardrobe.

Hela stripped off her dress and allowed it to fall in folds onto the floor. It had really happened. She was really going to become the new goddess of the dead and that she was exiled from her home and family. The realization hadn't struck her as much as it did then and when she pulled on the sleep robe, Hela flung herself onto the bed and buried her face into the pillow. For the first time since the sentencing, she felt the full weight of her situation and that she would never see the green forest thickets or the beautiful colorful gardens in Asgard. She would never see the lovely animals or share food with the family pets. Hela would never be able to sit with her father and read stories or learn spells.

Hela knew she would be forgotten in this place and she would never see her siblings or father again. After a long soft cry into her pillow, Hela turned to the side and stared at the book she had brought with her from the library. Reaching over, Hela traced a finger over the damaged cover and exhaled a dejected breath.

Hela blamed Odin for her imprisonment in the realm of the dead. She blamed her father for not stopping it and for letting her go. In that moment, it was clear that she would never forget or forgive those who are responsible for this dreary new life. She would never support Odin or Loki in the desperate times they would need it and she knew that eventually Ragnarok would come and sides would be chosen. No, she would be a neutral party and Niflehiem would never come to the aid of Asgard and in Hela's mind, she would like that better.

"Never forget, never forgive." The new found philosophy escaped her lips with ease and with a new resolve, Hela would embrace her role. Pulling the covers back, Hela slipped under them and placed the old book upon the night stand and blew out the candles. Tonight's sleep wouldn't be so bad after all.


	4. Chapter III: The Dream Of Hell

A/N: Disclaimer, I do not own Marvel or Thor, this is purely fan fiction and I do not own AFI's Spoken world. Also for you myth critics, this is going to draw out some of the myths and some of the comics, also some of my own ideas, so please, read and review.

* * *

_We held hands on the last night on earth, our mouths filled with dust. We kissed in the fields and under tree, screaming like dogs, bleeding dark into leaves._ _It was empty on the edge of town but we knew everyone floated along the bottom of the river. So we walked through the waste where the road curved into the sea and the shattered seasons lay, and the bitter smell of burning was on you like a disease. In our cancer of passion you said, "Death is a midnight runner."_ -AFI Spoken Word

* * *

The air stagnated between the three gods and it was silent like calmness before a gathering storm. The starling news of the death of Loki's daughter was alarming; for the goddess of death would be less susceptible to death than anyone one else in the nine realms. Thor was first to speak, his eyes widen with the utter shock of the news; he sucked in a small breath and spoke.

"How did this happened, fair Baldur?" Thor slowly glanced towards the trickster god to see his reaction but to his dismay, Loki's face was unreadable. Thor disliked when Loki was unreadable, all he ever seen on the god's face was the pale stoic features and even now, with the worst news a father could hear, Loki remained eerily calm about the whole situation and to Thor; it was very unsettling.

"It looked like she was attacked by some sort of beast. The bites upon her flesh resemble the bites a serpent puncture with their venomous fangs." Baldur replied while his gaze slipped to Loki. The trickster met the god's gaze and after a moment of holding it, Loki finally broke it and looked down to his shoes.

"Where was she when it happened?" Loki asked, his voice was uneven and insecure with grief. Thor looked closely and could see Loki was in fact trembling and was trying to ignore it.

Baldur paused and bit his lower lip. He knew that Loki was the father of Hela and therefore had a certain right to know the details of something so grisly. Baldur exhaled a held in breath and looked towards the tiled floor. "She was found on Yggdrasil." Loki looked up and his emotionless expression changed to a confused one.

"How did she even get to Yggdrasil? It is heavily guarded is it not? So someone should have seen something!" Loki snapped, his voice growing louder as he spoke and it took Thor's large calloused hand on his shoulder to remind him to remain calm.

"That I cannot tell you for I do not know such intricate details, no one does." Baldur felt a tinge of sadness build up within the core of his torso, he didn't know Hela all too well and he knew she wasn't well liked among the Aesirs, but to see her dead among the white tree of all knowing; it made him tremble a bit within.

Thor slipped his strong arms around Loki and guided him into the living room. Loki didn't fight him off but did move out of his grasp and seated himself onto the sofa. Secretly, Loki was relieved that Thor had taken him to the sofa because he was beginning to feel light headed and no good would come if he fainted. Hela, daughter of Loki was dead. This thought overwhelmed the god's mind and he cradled his head within his trembling slender hands. The god of Thunder slipped his hand onto Loki's back and stroked it like their mother would do when they were sick as children.

"Is there any way we can come back to Asgard for just a short time? I would like to see her put to rest." Thor wanted a funeral, some memorial to give to Hela, to remember her. It would be traditional of course. Loki looked up to Thor with wide emerald eyes. Thor would dare defy the All-Father by going to retrieve his daughter's body. Loki couldn't believe the audacity of Thor's personality. Hela never knew her uncle too well and yet Thor wanted to go and arrange a funeral. Nevertheless, Loki looked to Baldur for an answer.

Baldur was taken aback by the request. He didn't have the authority to give them a definite answer but, he wanted to do something to give the couple some sort of closure. If he were to take them back to Asgard, he could very well be punished as a traitor. Odin would strip him from his title and rank and exile him to some back water realm or even worse, death.

"Baldur." Loki spoke up from his place on the sofa. The dark haired god stood and stared at Baldur for a moment, choosing the right words he was about to say. "I know…over the years I haven't been entirely fair and kind to you. I know there is no justification for me asking for your help, but please, she was my only daughter and I would like to see her one last time and to be able to put her to rest." Loki didn't mean to choke over his words but the grief was beginning to set inside of him and he wanted to desperately push it off, he must keep his composure in front of others.

Silence once again filled the room and Baldur found himself conflicting with his sense of duty and his sense of morality. Finally coming to a decision, Baldur gave the gods a slow nod and bit his lip. "I can't promise anything but…I will travel back to Asgard and seek an audience with the All-Father and see if I can bring you two to Asgard on a temporary un-banishment."

Thor gave a dejected smile and nodded in agreement towards the god of beauty. "It is better than nothing." Thor walked with Baldur towards the front door and sighed gently. "I know this must have been hard for you to travel this far to deliver us tragic news." Baldur cast his glance to the floor and shook his head. "No, Thor, I was well prepared to give this news, I am just sad that it had to happen at all."

"It still happened and we need to be able to see her soon as possible, so please, make haste and get to the All-Father." Thor replied and slid the door open. Baldur nodded. "I shall be as fast as horses on the ride." Baldur stepped into the hall and simply vanished within a blink of an eye. Thor stood there for a moment and stared into the empty hall; taking a couple of preparation breaths, Thor turned and closed the door before returning to Loki's side.

Loki's features had changed. The once stoic and stern expression had transformed into a look of true sorrow, his skin looked chalky and his lips had small indentations where Loki had been biting them. The worse of them all was the lack of light within the Trickster's eyes. Thor had worked so hard to return his brother to his previous life of laughter and happiness, the prime teenage years that Thor had adored. Now, Loki seemed put off and distant.

"Thor…" Loki's voice cracked as he gave a small plea to the bigger god. Loki had to blink back the tears that desperately wanted to fall. Thor wrapped his large arms around the god's shoulders and pulled him close to him. Loki's eyes widen as he was pulled into such an embrace.

"Thor…" Loki repeated in a childlike sob and tears began to fall and Loki didn't care anymore. He wept within Thor's arms. "She can't be dead, Thor!" Thor pulled him closer and ran a hand through his neat hair. "I know you are hurting from this loss but Baldur wouldn't have come all this way if it wasn't true."

"She was powerful! Hela would never succumb to a low creature attack such as this!" Loki felt anger bubble up within him and he stood, jerking away from Thor. "I refuse to believe such a thing!"

"Perhaps it wasn't accidental…" Thor suggested and Loki furrowed his brows. "Do you think someone did this to Hela?" Thor exhaled an uncertain breath and eventually gave Loki a confirmed nod.

"It certainly doesn't make sense that she could be killed so easily, Aesirs are incredibly hard to kill on a normal day." Thor recounted all the battles he went through that he could have very well died in if it wasn't for his strengths and stamina.

"What do you suggest?" Loki had asked his elder brother. Thor took a moment to think and came up with a reply. "I believe if we are granted access to go to Asgard, while we are there, we need to find any evidence that this wasn't accidental. Baldur didn't tell us everything." Thor always could tell when Baldur was not being entirely truthful. It was in his body movement and the way he would lick and bite at his lower lip. Thor knew there was something more to this death than meets the eye and he was determined to uncover the truth, for not his sake, but for Loki's.

* * *

The night had come quietly and Natasha Romanov once again found herself completely exerted by the end of her work day. The change had crept up on her and she was growing discouraged with this new found weakness. The Black Widow; when she was in her prime, could last days without sleep, she could run days without sleep or food and drink. Now, she couldn't get through half a day without taking a few moments to herself to nap.

That wasn't the only change within the Russian woman. Every so often during the night, strange dreams would captivate her mind. Within her dreams, the distinct smell of blood overwhelmed her senses and she would follow the dark trail and upon treading this trail, Natasha could hear the faint sounds of crying and it made the hair on the back of her hair stand on end. Despite all the warnings in her head telling her turn back, Natasha would continue. Through the darkness she would spot a faint light and as she drew near, the night grew larger and brighter until she was nearly blinded by it.

The sound of a child screaming echoed through the space and when Natasha was able to see again, her breath stopped short. Blood covered the cobblestone walls, dripping into several pools of blood. Even the ceiling was splashed with groups of blood. In the middle of the small room, was a tangled and torn body and among the pale flesh were puncture wounds of fangs. Through the blood and parts of flesh that seem to be bit off, Natasha could see drenched ginger hair in which the strands stuck to her face. The screaming child was huddled in the corner and before Natasha caught a glimpse of the child's face, she woke up.

The sweat dripped down her temple and she exhaled a shaky breath. The dreams were becoming more frequent and the red head was becoming more concerned with her health. Natasha moved from her bed and threw a bath robe over her shoulders to hide her bra and panties.

"I wonder if Barton is awake." She muttered to herself as she left her room and strolled through her apartment. As she entered the quiet hallway, she remembered to lock the door behind her. Natasha was always one for making sure no one could break into her home, as un-rational the notion was.

Barton would most likely be in bed at the current hour of one o'clock in the morning. Natasha moved silently through the hall until she was at Barton's door and with a swift click and a tap, the locked door opened with ease. Natasha entered the apartment and turned on the lamp to alert Barton of her entry.

"Barton!" Natasha called and moved towards his bedroom, she could hear the loud nasal clogged snoring of Clint and she turned his door handle to enter his room. "Barton." She called again and frowned at him to find that Clint in fact had fallen asleep nude.

"Barton." She lifted a pillow from the floor and threw it, smacking the archer in the face. Barton sat up and grumbled. "What the fuck Natasha?!" He snapped and pulled the covers over to hide his lower regions. Natasha crossed her arms in an annoyed silence.

"It happened again."

"The dream?" Clint ran a hand through his hair and tried to blink away the sleep from his eyes. Every night this week was the same, Natasha would make midnight visits to him and she would sit on his bed beside him to explain the dream that plagued her sleep.

"The same exact one." She replied and gave a defeated and exhausted sigh. "I just don't understand, Clint. Why is this happening to me?" Clint stared at her in silence and found her presence to be a wonderful companionship. She was his long time friend and partner and he hated to see her going through some sort of trauma.

"Well…" Barton began but paused, to get his thoughts together. "Perhaps, this is some sort of guilt thing." Barton suggested and looked to her. "You aren't exactly an angel, perhaps you past has emotionally caught up with you, Tash."

"I don't have emotions." She corrected and spoke stoically; as if to shield any kind of reaction from surfacing her face. Barton knew she was lying, she was the perfect liar, and he knew how to catch her in a lie.

"We know that isn't true Natasha." Barton whispered and moved closer and wrapped a brave arm around her shoulders and at first she was stiff against his arm but slowly she relaxed and rested her body against the side of his body. Her head rested in the nook of his neck and sighed.

"I just want to be able to have a decent night sleep and that only seems to happen when you are near me." Clint smiled at her and nodded. "Well, it seems that you are comfortable around me then I am just going to have to accept it." He teased and laid her back. "Tonight just sleep and don't worry about anything else."


End file.
